can i request setting 33 with dialogue 1 please? for poly rosekiller or bartylus😊
oooh sure! thanks for playing!
poly!bartylus x gn!reader who wasn't supposed to mix alcohol [473 words]
CW: ³³⁾ a mens’ bathroom, ¹⁾ “it’s too early for this.”, no gender markers used for reader, reader has hair that can be moved from the nape of their neck, implied vomiting, hanging over the edge of the toilet
Regulus was biting his tongue so hard that his teeth tasted metallic, willing himself not to say the words dancing on the tip of his tongue.
His brain was a steady mantra of don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.
Barty didn’t have such qualms nor the self-restraint.
“It’s too early for this.” He announced to the empty men’s bathroom, eliciting a whimper from your frame that was curled up on the floor of a stall with your head hanging over the edge of the toilet.
Regulus figured he ought to be grateful that it was so early in the evening, seeing as the bathroom’s were hardly dirtied by the drunk and depraved who would come to haunt these stalls as the night wore on. Your knees likely safe from the grime having only recently been disinfected.
Regulus bit back a sigh as he pulled some toilet paper from the dispenser. “Are you almost done, amour?”
You let out a whimper that really didn’t amount to much but Regulus correctly translated to a resounding no.
“Treasure, I thought we decided we weren’t going to mix our alcohol tonight.” Barty drawled; the we was an attempt to soften the blow of his reprimand seeing as the rule was really only ever enacted for you.
Something that sounded an awful lot like ‘sorry’ left your sad, sorry lips as the door to the bathroom opened up.
“Whoa,” an equally drunk looking bar patron murmured as he swayed in surprise, eyes glued to the point past Barty and Regulus to where you were hunched over the toilet.
“Yeah, yeah. Nothin’ to see here,” Barty huffed dismissively, though he kept his gaze locked on the bloke as the block kept his gaze locked on you, “go on, move along you fuckin’ wanker.”
The bloke did, indeed, move along once Barty straightened and took a few menacing steps towards him, Regulus taking the opportunity to move into the stall now that he was no longer vying for space with Barty.
He crouched behind you and moved some of your – now sticky – hair away from the nape of your neck; you shivered at the cool air that accosted you.
“Let me know when you think you can make it home without throwing up in a cab and we’ll leave, alright?” He murmured into the space behind your ear.
You were truly pitiful, whimpering in response though you dutifully nodded at his instruction before lurching towards the toilet bowl again.
“It’s too early for this…” Barty muttered again, though his gaze fell soft and sympathetic as he stationed himself against the hinges of the stall again like your very own personal bouncer keeping everyone out of your very own personal hell.
Honestly? Regulus couldn’t help but agree; it was going to be a long night.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hi love !!! bartylus request time !!! (let's not talk about how long it took me to spell that name LOL) how about them making reader feel better after a long hard mental health day ? like regulus not pressuring her to talk or anything, but barty trying to get her to say if it was someone who hurt her so he could go get them 😭😭😭 and then eventually realizing that all she wants is them ??? ily elle ofc u don't have to write this !!! <3
hehehe... thanks for the request [from all the way back at the beginning of July 2024 😭] & for your patience [almost 10 months of it] in me!
poly!bartylus x fem!reader who had a bad mental health day [772 words]
CW: anxiety/bad day, concerned partners, swearing in Barty's internal dialogue as well as threats of violence, hurt/comfort
You were tense. And quiet.
You were tense and quiet.
Those facts lit a fire under Barty; his entire body thrumming with anxiety and a drive to do something, only for Regulus Wet Blanket Black to thwart his efforts on fixing… this, whatever this was.
Barty had been about to say something when Regulus elbowed his ribs, shooting him a pointed glare which Barty understood his signature stand down look.
You were sitting across the table from them in the library, staring down at your parchment unseeingly as you traced your lips with the feather of your quill. That’s all you had been doing for the past nearly forty-five minutes that the three of you have been here.
Attempts were made at conversation, but the boys could hardly get more than a hum of acknowledgement or a simple one word yes or no response from you.
Regulus seemed to be of the mind that you wouldn’t appreciate an interrogation right now. Barty, in contrast, wanted to learn the names of any and all of the motherfuckers who dared to cause this frowny version of his favourite girl.
It felt like a bad western stand off; Regulus and Barty on one side of the table communicating through pointed glares, pinches to thighs and elbows to ribs, quirked brows and quietly hissed threats as you worried the base of your quill between two tense fingers, eyes growing more and more glassy as time went on.
Barty couldn’t take it anymore, his restraint snapped.
“What happened?” He blurted, earning him an – even more aggressive – elbow to the ribs and a disappointed sigh from Regulus on his side. That was okay, Regulus could be mad if wanted to be; Barty’s main concern was you.
The question startled you out of your spiral, dropping the quill with a quiet gasp as black in bled in two splotches on your parchment. That was your tipping point, apparently, seeing two more splotches appear on your blank parchment; tears finally falling over the edge of your waterline.
“Amour.” Regulus cooed pitifully as Barty stood and rounded the table, straddling the bench on your side so that he was facing you.
“What’s the matter, treasure?” Barty asked in the softest tone he could muster; images of him stringing students and professors alike to the rafters by their robes if any of them so much as slightly contributed to this day of yours flashing violently behind his eyes.
“I’ve just- I.. I’ve just had a bad day.” You admit; voice taught near painfully as you bit back a sob.
“Who did it?” Barty asked darkly, leaning back to look at you as though your face might tell you who did this. That earned him a warning ‘Barty…’ from Regulus.
You were shaking your head, though, as you wiped tears from your face; both boys dedicating the entirety of their attention to you as you worked yourself up to talk to them.
“It’s just…I just had a hard day, I think.” You admitted with a sigh as though simply admitting it had a weight lifting from your shoulders. “I just woke up very anxious and…”
“And it didn’t get any better as the day went on.” Regulus deduced, finishing your sentence when words seemed to fail you.
You nodded miserably as a defeated sob escaped your lips.
“I’m so sorry, tres,” Barty murmured as he pulled you in flush to his chest, “we should’ve said something earlier.” He tacked on, narrowing his eyes at Regulus across the table. Regulus had the grace to look at least partially chastised, even though he still managed to roll his eyes at Barty.
“I’m sorry, amour.” Regulus agreed, reaching across the table to take one of your hands in his. “What can we do to help, hm?”
You took a moment to think on that; licking your lips as you tried to take a deep breath despite the way in shuttered as it left you.
“Do you think maybe we can just relax for the night?” You asked, bordering on shy. “Maybe sit outside for a bit?”
“Consider it done.” Barty agreed quickly, Regulus already making to stand and collecting his things from the desk. “You go to the dungeons to change into comfies and collect blankets with Reg, and I’ll get some snacks from the kitchen.”
“We’ll meet at the astronomy tower.” Regulus agreed; the two boys completely taking over the planning and execution so that all you had to do was hold one of their hands through the castle and enjoy your relaxing night.
Barty was glad he asked; Regulus was glad Barty asked, too.
Congrats on 7k that's amazing!! I found you not too long ago, but I'm so glad I did, I love your writing, truly.
For the games, I was hoping to spin the roulette wheel with bartylus x reader. The prompts I had in mind were: domestic prompts 15 (odd socks) and acts of service 21 (taking care of them when they're sick)
If you get around to this and feel inspired, I can't wait to see what you come up with!
thanks for playing!!
poly!bartylus x gn!reader who take care of reg when he's sick [433 words]
CW: sick fic, barty and regulus cosplaying as haters, mild chaos, fluff
“Alright, doc,” you sigh as Barty straightens up from where he’d been hovering over Regulus’ curled up form, “give it to me straight: how bad is it?”
Barty makes a point to appear particularly perturbed. “He’s wearing mismatched socks.”
You let out a theatrical gasp as you clutch at your non-existent pearls. “That bad, eh?”
“I can hear you sods.” Regulus grumbles bitterly from his blanket cocoon.
“Oh my God,” Barty gasps, pretending to have been startled. “I thought it was dead.”
“Barty.”
“Awe, Reggie.” You coo placatingly before the two of them can start a row. “You sound awful.”
“I feel awful.” He pouts.
“You look awful too.”
“Okay, out.” You direct Barty as you gesture definitively towards the door.
Barty rolls his eyes but he complies, picking up the various dirty tissues and empty cups of tea and water as he does, giving away how much he actually does care for his down-and-out boyfriend.
“He’s such an arse to me.” Regulus whines earning him a roll of your own eyes.
“You love it.” You state simply, no sympathy for your boyfriend who gives to Barty just as good as he gets. Besides, the fact that his feet are currently dutifully covered in a healthy dose of vapour rub – mismatched socks and all – and that he is propped up by perfectly fluffed pillows and adorned in a variety of blankets hardly appears to be the work of anything less than a perfectly dutiful boyfriend.
“Feel bad for me.” Regulus begs.
“No.”
“Amour.” He chides.
“Regulus.”
“Please?”
His eyes have taken on a glassy quality on account of his fever; cheeks pinked and bottom lip jutting out as he makes one last-ditch effort at gaining your sympathy. You don’t give it to him, but you do press a kiss to his fever warmed forehead which appears to be close enough.
“Oi!” Barty complains from the door, pausing with a new cup of tea in one hand and a cool, damp flannel in the other. “I leave for two minutes and we’re getting kisses?”
“You can get kisses too, Bee.” You sigh tiredly at the same time Regulus murmurs “no kisses for you.”
This leads to a squabble breaking out between the two boys; Regulus not receiving his cup of tea and Barty not receiving any kisses as you step out of the room to leave the two of them to their nonsense. You’re just glad Regulus is feeling well enough to fight with his boyfriend.
The sound of cackling trailing out of the room behind you tells you that Barty’s glad for it, too.
